Attack of the Ghost Potter
by Witticism-fails-me
Summary: Harry dies in final battle, blah blah, it's a mistake le gasp!  He's sent to a different dimension/time by an incompetent Gate Keeper where he's a ghost. SS/HP SLASH. T for bad, as in swearing, and suggestive language.
1. Of Merlin's Balls and a Grey Bottle

When Harry Potter discovered that the prophecy wasn't _completely_ right, it was too late. Even though it had said that they could not both live, that one would die and one would live, it had never said outright…that _that_ exact scenario had to happen.

Turns out, as long as one of them died, the other might as well, which was pretty much what happened that fateful day when Harry and Voldemort arrived at their final confrontation. In a battle of wills and might they traded spells and exhausted their magical stores.

Among the confusion and noise that oft accompanied battle, amid the acrid smoke and wayward spells shot off from both sides in that particular clash of armies, did the-boy-who-lived and he-who-must-not-be-named vanquish each other, forever and eternally.

The self-proclaimed Dark Lord went up in a pyre of flame reminiscent to that of a funeral's, his ashes scattering to the four corners of the earth, blown by a hefty sigh of relief from up above at the prophecy's final call. The Wizarding world's savior stayed grounded, crumpled to the ground when he was felled by the aftershock of his own spell, the spell that defeated his life-time enemy.

It was with a cacophonous mix of cheers and sobs that everyone heard the news, Voldemort was dead! Finally!

But Harry Potter was dead as well.

Hermione sobbed into Ron's robes, headless of the blood and sweat mingling with her tears, he wrapped her in his arms numbly staring ahead.

Fred Weasley laughed hysterically to the heavens above that opened and poured down rain, he'd lost his better half and a good friend, looked like he was on the receiving end of a divine joke indeed.

Nymphadora Tonks changed her appearance to suit the occasion, a color scheme inspired by the poisoned and passed on Potion's Master of Hogwarts, smiling bitterly down at her fallen werewolf lover, hands clasped loosely around her belly in a premonition of life to come.

Minerva McGonagall, resident Transfigurations professor and newly crowned Headmistress allowed a tear to arc down her cheek, blending in with the rain, before she began making order of the chaos that she was surrounded by.

And so on and so forth. Their reactions aren't the least bit important to the story, so they had best not take up more of the page than intended. Back Mrs. Weasley! Go hug someone else to your voluptuous bosom!

No, this story starts a _bit_ later. In that long ass line you stand in to await your eventual assignment to Heaven or Hell, where a certain green eyed scar face has just reached that one scary looking lady, who reminds everyone of McGonagall, holding a clipboard and wafty-ish looking quill. _That's_, where this particular story starts.

"Name?" the lady demanded abruptly, Harry blinked owlishly. "Your _Name_, child, or you'll be sent to Hell for wasting my time."

"Ah, H-Harry James Potter, M'am." He stuttered out, frightened by the harsh demeanor of the lady as she quickly scanned down the list. He waited rather patiently as she scanned over it a second time, then a third, and then a fourth before she looked back at him, lips pursed on consternation.

"That your real name?" she flicked her quill like it was a whip, Harry could easily think of which side she was from.

"Er-yes?" Harry was deeply unnerved by this woman, she was like a cross between McGonagall and Snape, the bitter, hateful love-child they never had.

"So then, _Mister Potter_," the lady leaned over her clipboard to hiss at him in a low voice, a rather asexual voice he realized, not male nor female, he repressed a shiver as her eyes, which lacked pupils, scowled down at him. "Why are you not recognized by the Clipboard of Fate?" he blinked at her again.

"C-Clipboard of…Fate?" he repeated dumbly. The lady drew herself up straight suddenly and spared him another glare before scribbling something down and tapping it to make it implode on itself.

Harry supposed it was some form of communication because seconds later scrap of parchment wafted down from nowhere into her waiting hand. She snapped it out of the air with perhaps more force than necessary and scanned over it, an evil smile spreading over her face that sent foreboding shudders down Harry's spine.

"Well, _Mister Potter_," she imploded the note without writing a reply and towered over him with an air of cruel satisfaction. "it appears that the Fate's _messed_ up, you're going back. Lucky you."

"Really? I'll be alive again?" Harry grinned happily, a smile that was struck from his face at the lady's next words.

"No, of course not. Your body's already been burned, nope, _Mister Potter, _you're going back as a _ghost_!" she cackled evilly and Harry gaped at her, jaws working to say something but his vocal cords had run away. "Now then, I've never been good at spells like this, probably due to some sort of repressed anger issues, so I might send you back to the wrong time…or the wrong dimension…or even the wrong world all together soooo, don't worry a titch!"

Harry though she seemed mighty cheerful for admitting weakness in a certain field, and…it didn't seem like she was repressing any anger…just basing it off what he had seen so far. "Bye-bye Mister Potter!" he heard a loud BOOM and he blacked out.

"Hey Snivellus! How long _has_ been since you've washed your hair?" Severus Snape scowled and clutched his books tighter to his chest as he quickened his pace, intent on ignoring the jeers directed at him by the four Gryffindors who seemed hell bent on making his life miserable.

"Look at him run! Like the little Death Eater he is!" loud verbal agreements met James Potter's remark. Severus spared them one of his famous glares and hurried on, closing his ears to the loud, mocking laughter. He had to dodge a stinging hex, but otherwise remained unscathed as he walked deeper into the dungeons.

He didn't have that many friends, Severus accepted that, but he still never quite saw the point to constantly targeting him among the other Slytherins available for bullying. Safe within the confines of his room, being Head boy had its merits for sure, Severus thumped his books on his desk, loosened his tie around his neck, threw his robes over a chair, and lay back on his bed, arms crossed behind his head.

-Stupid Gryffindors,- he glared up at the dark stoned ceiling and twisted a lock of lanky hair behind his fingers, it always was greased back to keep his long hair from getting in potions. –I bet the fumes from failed potions have already turned their brains to mush. What does Lily even see in that bigoted jerk?-

Severus sighed at the thought of his red-headed Gryffindor friend, if that was what she was anymore. Potter had been pursuing the girl for a while, and it seemed like she wasn't as averse to his advances than Severus would have expected. –So much for being my supportive friend.- he sat up with another sigh. –Might as well get to my homework then, nothing better to do.-

The dark-haired teen grabbed his books and collapsed back on his bed to start reading the required pages assigned in Charms and Transfigurations then finish up a paper on Ancient Runes. When he was finished, Severus grabbed the latest issue of Potions Weekly, scanning over the contents for the actually interesting things. –Someone's finally made improvements on the Butterflagon Conundrum Draught, hopefully they'll change the name someday…I should start a petition against the ridiculous naming of potions, maybe sue the people who name them in the first place…- he mused as he lazily flicked through, throwing it aside in the end in boredom.

–There's nothing interesting anymore, why doesn't people create potions that have use anymore? Myself not included, of course, I did after all contribute to the latest findings in the cure for Inherent Beffudlement and Confunding.- he allowed himself a prideful smirk before rolling off the bed and onto his feet, moving quickly to the makeshift lab he'd constructed in a corner that had previously held a large wardrobe and primping station.

Simmering under a stasis spell in his well-loved and used cauldron sat a very volatile and delicate-to-make potion he'd been experimenting on for the last few months, since school had begun and he was granted his own personal chambers, to his delight and the horror of the professors who knew his habits well.

Cancelling the stasis spell, Severus sniffed and reeled back at the stench, smirking in satisfaction even as he did, because Slytherins never smiled. They smirked and left the world to shiver and wonder in fear what they had done to make them so pleased. "Good, this is better than I had expected." Severus muttered, adding a pinch of chicken scales and watching in exuberance as the simmering concoction belched out an acrid black smoke.

It would have his room smelling like crisped and boiled Manticore intestines for a couple of weeks when it was done, but all for the greater good, right? Well…and the greater evil, I stand corrected. Apologies.

Severus rubbed his hands together in delighted anticipation, the slow grin that spread over his pale, drawn face would have anyone diving for cover were in public. It was a premonition for horror to come, and vengeance, most certainly vengeance. "Oh, this will be wonderful, simply wonderful. Oh how I love you, dearest cauldron, to the ends of the Earth and beyond!" he cackled as was called for, then stopped.

Was that…an echo?

Severus quickly scanned the perimeter of his rooms, that couldn't be. His rooms weren't vast enough to echo, and the echo wasn't much of a cackle, more of a…amused chuckle?

"Who's there?" Severus demanded, drawing his wand from the waistband of his regrettably muggle jeans, his black slacks were all dirty and Severus Snape was not one to even consider gallivanting around in, Merlin forbid, soiled clothing, despite popular belief of course. Nothing answered, not even an echo.

With one last suspicious peruse of the room and it's dark, cobweb infested corners, Severus turned back to his potion, which had turned a color reminiscent of a first year's puke just the day before in the Great Hall when he'd been hit with some sort of hex that Severus hadn't been interested in. "I may actually finish this one." He murmured to himself, a rare true smile gracing his face, making it seem just a _bit_ less dead than usual.

But of course, he forgot to knock on wood, and our favorite little Slyth jinxed himself and his potion, if you want to think of it that way. Almost immediately after his words, the potion exploded for no reason at all, completely unprovoked you might say, no one had called _it_ any bad names, or insulted its parentage.

Well, except for its unexpected new cauldron buddy, if you want to get all technical, it's buddy being a familiar unconscious ghost with a hero-complex. But for Severus it was completely unexpected, he having blacked out mere milliseconds after the initial explosion.

Turns out, that love-child of Snape and McGonagall had _some _competence in the field of transporting accidental ghosts back to the land of the living…just not enough to get the right time…or dimension for that matter.

Harry Potter woke to find himself in the remains of what seemed to be an exploded cauldron, still smoking as it was, and in unfamiliar surroundings. Blinking rapidly to clear his vision he realized that wherever he was smoke filled the air, and not the kind that wafted lazily up from little cheery fires. It was poisonous looking stuff, the kind you got suffocated from in just one breath.

Someone coughed violently and Harry half-floated half-climbed out of the cauldron, looking around for the source of the coughing, it sounded to him like whoever it was, was hacking up a lung. He reached up to adjust his glasses then realized he didn't have or need them anymore and spied a pile of robes that were convulsing in a rather worrying manner.

Hurrying over, Harry knelt at the side of the person and reached out a tentative hand to a shuddering shoulder. "A-are you a-alive?" he asked hesitantly then smacked himself inwardly for the stupid question, of _course _they were alive, it was just a matter of whether or not they were going to live for much longer.

"G-grey *cough* b-bottle…" the voice sounded strangely familiar as the convulsing student lifted a wavering finger, pointing towards a glass cabinet filled with potions of all sorts before collapsing in on himself, the voice was definitely male, as another merciless coughing fit attacked. Harry nodded and floated over quickly, reaching through the glass to realize that…he couldn't touch material things.

"Oh Merlin's magical ball sack." He cursed. "What'm I supposed to do _now_?" then he remembered a certain poltergeist, if Peeves could lift objects, then Harry bloody Potter was determined to do the same, screw the rules! He was around as proof that any law or theory could be disproved in a matter of minutes, or hours depending on the law and amount of explosives needed, courtesy of the Weasley twins and their genius.

Concentrating hard and reaching for what he later christened his 'awesome ghost skills', (Or what are formally known as 'Ghostly Influence'.) Harry lifted the potion the boy had described to him, luckily there only one definite grey bottle, and began pulling it out. It's progress was halted suddenly and Harry frowned in consternation then inwardly smacked himself again as he remembered the glass door, opening that as well.

The coughing grew worse behind him and once Harry had successfully extracted the bottle from the cabinet, with a little victorious pat on the back for his good work, the ex-savior hurried back to the boy and knelt by his side again. His uncorked the bottle, with minor difficulties as he came across the problem of the wax seal, (Who _seals_ emergency potions anyways?) solved by the power of brute force, and turned to the boy over to lower the potion to his lips.

Luckily, he didn't have to force the student to drink, Harry didn't know what he would have done if that were the case, and whoever it was began ceasing to shudder and convulse as the coughs lessened. By then, the air had cleared considerably, due to some sort of magical vent in the air that worked horribly slow in activating, someone would have to get around to fixing that, and Harry set aside the bottle.

"Phew, I'll bet that was a close one." He sighed in relief, passing a translucent hand over his forehead, wiping away nonexistent sweat.

"Wh-who _are_ you? And what are you doing in my room?" Harry focused on the boy, registering for the first time his features, and his jaw went slack.

"Y-y-you…" he managed to stutter out. Staring up at him tiredly but suspiciously, was a considerably younger Severus Snape. Harry fell back in a faint, something he had never thought possible for a ghost to accomplish, much less follow through with.

* * *

Yaaaaay, Severus almost diiiiied! No...wait, that's not a 'yaaaay' moment. Lemme readjust that one: Yaaaaay, Harry diiiied! Better, better. But he's a ghost now! Like a poltergeist type thingy...like _PEEVES_. I like Peeves, he makes me happy inside. :D I think Peeves and Harry should become friends, terrorize the little ittle firsties when Harry isn't allowed to bother Sevvie, since he does, you know, have to actually study and...yeah.(Booooo, says the procrastinator, booooo.) I'd never be in Ravenclaw...or perhaps I could convince the sorting hat to let me go there so I can wreak havoc? hmmm, a good plan.

Did anyone else wait with bated breaths on their eleventh birthday for that fateful letter? JK Rowling disappoints me, she should set up some sort of fund that will supply money for an orginization thats only purpose is to address and send Hogwarts letters, that'd be bat scat awesome. Don'tcha concur? You should tell me...in a review! (Did it work?) Will I have to do a dance? I _am_ the Lord of Dance, maybe even the Mistress of Magma...will you do it...FOR PONY?(sorry, complete plagiarism there)

Disclaimer(s): I dun own Harry Potter, if I did...it would be such a pit of gayness and ruin that I think even the homosexuals would be repulsed...though, what if writers actually _did_ go onto fanfiction and wrote and read the many butcherings of their stories? That's be both creepy...and epic. But I digress, I also do not own the webcomic 'Looking for Group' which is awesome, which is why I don't own it, which is why you should go see it (I own a shirt...that's actually my brooooothers...but...he doesn't knooooow :D)

~Witty


	2. Of Sevvie's Smexy Snarkiness

Severus struggled into a sitting position, coughing a bit as he waved away the remnants of the smoke that had him near death in the first place. He stared down disbelieving at the faintly glowing figure collapsed by his side. –What in Merlin's name just happened?-

He remembered his cauldron blowing up, probably the ghost's fault now that he thought about it, and his lungs almost collapsing due to the thick black smoke that was suddenly everywhere. But then the ghost-boy had appeared and got him his emergency 'Most-Ailment-Ailer' draught, another ridiculously named potion, but a useful one nonetheless.

So the boy had potentially saved his life, but it had likely been him that had caused the incident in the first place. A bit of a win-lose situation, Severus remarked silently. –Although, perhaps I should be wondering just _who_ he is, instead of debating uselessly on whether or not I should be mad at him for blowing up my potion or grateful for saving my life.-

But the boy/ghost/demon-spawn/whatever didn't seem to be on the way to consciousness anytime soon. It was curious that he'd fainted when he seemed to recognize Severus, and not with good connotations either, he noted dryly.

-I think I'd recognize him myself if I had caused him so much grief in his living life to make him faint in all his ghostly glory like that…- a fairly evil smirk was affixed on his face and a hint of pride, alright, a bucket of pride dumped itself in his heart at the thought that he had scared someone so badly at one point. –Although…I do hope I wasn't the _reason_ he died…eh, well, kudos to me either way. He probably deserved it if it was my fault.-

He shrugged off the hint of guilt that attempted to join the merry party of emotions in his heart, no partying for guilt. Last time he was allowed, guilt got Severus drunk out of his mind and singing 'Carryon Wayward Son' at the top of his lungs in the Slytherin common room. (Of course he'd obliviated everyone who witnessed it, Severus was no bed-wetting Hufflepuff, but it was still a sore subject to think about.)

So, hence the 'no inviting guilt to any of his emotion clashes' rule.

A small groan had Severus' attention immediately and he focused on the waking ghost/boy, startlingly green eyes, scarily reminiscent of Lily's, blinked blearily and unfocused as he appeared to struggle to prop himself up on his elbows, then remember he was a ghost, and float into a sitting position.

"Wha happ'ned?" he asked dazedly, looking around the room for a few seconds, passing over Severus the first time then focusing in on him fast the second time, eyes widening in realization as he began to swoon backwards again.

"Hey!" Severus snapped, like hell was he letting the ghost intruder just up and faint again, it actually _hurt_ to be treated like that…well okay, it did add more pride to his Slytherin instincts, but _still_, he surely hadn't been _that_ cruel! "Would you _stop_ it already? Drama-queen."

It worked and the boy jerked back up, staring at him like a deer in muggle car headlights. "S-sorry." He muttered, his voice soft and laced with real remorse. Obviously a Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, Severus surmised. A Slytherin would never be caught regretting something, if they were accused of a misdemeanor or some such nonsense one would back down quietly or, if there was enough doubt, admantly refuse any guilt. Then Ravenclaws wouldn't faint in the first place...hell, Severus didn't even think they slept, ever.

So, a Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, Severus was leaning towards Gryffindor himself, the air about the boy, apart from the 'being dead' air just screamed 'righteous and noble idiot prone to overreacting and never thinking', a Hufflepuff would stutter more and cower in a ball of self hate. So the Slytherin nodded, half to himself on the good job of deducing the ghost's house and in response to the ghost's state of conciousness. "Good, you had better be, cause I don't know you and I'd rather like it if you'd explain why you're in my room and why you blew up my cauldron." He raised an eyebrow expectantly and was surprised when the ghost-boy _giggled_?

"Eheh, sorry about that, wasn't really my fault, I don't think..." the ghost trailed off thoughtfully before shooting a rather reproachful glare up at the ceiling and beyond then turned back to Severus and offered a hesitant smile. "My name's Harry by the way, Harry Potter."

Severus stared at him, heedless of his regretfully slack jaw. "You're a-a _Potter_?" he hissed, the boy, Harry, flinched back and nodded in shame. Most certainly a Gryffindor, the day a _Potter_ went into Hufflepuff was the day that child was banished from the family.

"Y-yeah, sorry." He mumbled, picking at a shoelace. "Not my fault really, I didn't choose to be conceived by a bully, Sir." Severus raised his eyebrow again, anger forgotten in favor of surprise at the honorific he was given.

"_Sir_?" he asked, allowing himself an amused smirk as a blush stained Harry's cheeks.

"In my, er, world when I was a-alive you were kind of my P-Professor." He admitted, turning away. Severus was surprised, he hadn't ever considered teaching as an option, he truly loathed children and couldn't ever imagine being around the annoying buggers 24/7 when he grew up. Truth be told, he'd always imagined himself a hermit in the mountains.

Not in a cave of course, those were never sanitary and who knew what would contaminate the potions he'd be making every day all day in the name of prestige and certain fame. He'd never leave, not even if the world begged him to because his potions were so great and they needed him to solve all their problems with the magic he wrought with his stained fingers and extraordinary mind. But, back to the matter at hand, his sudden knowledge that he'd be a Professor someday.

"Really, a Professor huh?" he asked with an air of nonchalance, leaning back on his hands casually. "Potions I'll bet. I _am_ after all, the only one competent in them in this day and age after all." He smirked smugly before becoming serious again and sitting up straighter, he never did like to pretend uncaring, it was either hateful indifference or straightforward honesty for him, unless of course there was a good reason to lie. (Which there almost alwats tended to be.) "So...any idea why you're here in my time? And not in yours?"

Harry shifted rather uncomfortably and shrugged listlessly. "I died back in my time. Got sent here when the Fates apparently realized that it was a mistake for me to die, I think I was supposed to go back to my time...but I don't think the gate-keeper lady liked me."

"How'd you die in the first place? I'm guessing a potions accident, just based on your entrance here. You didn't kill me from the future as well, did you? Because I almost died just now." Severus was quirked an eyebrow, (He had to, you see, raise and eyebrow in question or disbelief at least ten times a day. Slytherin rule, of course.) it wasn't every day the ghost of the child of his arch nemesis, and he was guessing his (ex)best friend by the eyes, appeared in his rooms.

It was an odd occurrence to be sure. Perhaps even more odd than the time Sirius Black ran into the Great Hall one morning, a large leaf seemingly stuck magically to his nether regions (Still horrifyingly revealing nontheless), windmilling his arms like a maniac and screaming his head off about an escaped puff ball or puff beast, something of the nature. Severus had to bleach his eyes out later.

"I'm not so sure I should tell you…" Harry trailed off, looking away to survey the room once more. –At the rate with which he does that, he'll have my rooms and their contents memorized by the end of the hour.- Severus thought wryly.

"Why not?" he pressed and Harry shrugged, returning his gaze and fingers to his shoelaces, tugging at them listlessly.

"Might mess up the timeline." he replied offhandedly then looked up sharply, dull green eyes staring intently into Severus', a disconcerted feeling came over the Slytherin and he had to looked away, but not before Harry had asked his question. "Voldemort's alive here, right?"

"Sure he is, regretfully." He rubbed his forearm absently, drawing Harry's eyes instantaneously to the spot, narrowing in accusation.

"Have you…?" he left the question hanging. He shook his vehemently, like hell would he ever work for that demented freak of nature.

"No, in Merlin's holy name, no. But he's certainly gotten others in my year, they have no toruble in showing off their...marks to fellow housemates. Like it's something to be proud of." he stopped rubbing his arm and sneered in disgust, Harry snorted and Severus looked up. "What?"

"I had no idea you considered Merlin holy." He smiled, Severus gave him a glare that must have lacked his usual poison, probably the reason why the ghost wasn't fazed by it. "You've never said that before."

Now the Slytherin was confused. "Before? What do you mea- oh, right, different time." He paused, crossing his legs into the more comfortable pretzel position and leaning his elbow on his knees, chin cupped by his palms. "So, am I really as huge a git as you're implying, in the future?" he had expected thoughtfulness at the question, along with a serious face, but the burst of laughter that erupted from the floating boy startled him and he shot him an annoyed glare.

"What's so funny? It was just a question." Severus effectively silenced the laughter, a useful skill he'd learned from always being mocked and taunted by a certain four Gryffindors. Harry let out one last chuckle before he answered the question, the grin on his face refusing to be dismissed even by the most fearsome glare Severus could muster up. It appeared the boy was immune, intriguing. Severus would have to look further into that in the future, maybe run a few tests...

"Oh you wouldn't believe how big a git you are in my time." The Gryffindor snorted, an air of nostalgia descending as his expression softened and a small smile overtook his lips. "You hated me because of my dad and even though you were always saving me, you took every chance you could get to take house points and humiliate me in front of everyone." He said it without animosity, as though it were a fond memory. Which was altogether strange in itself, but Severus just passed it off as a Gryffindor trait, since there was no point in delving into the sanity risking logic of an idiot.

"Interesting," Severus tapped a finger against his cheek, "did I do everything unprovoked? I can't have been that cruel." Well, maybe he could...but that was the past, he was certain he'd changed. He didn't prank _every_ Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, he hadn't gotten to everyone yet and there was no use dwelling on future occasions.

A guilty smile passed over the dead boy's lips. "Maybe a little." He admitted. "It was sort of a battle between us, you tended to win the most since you could just give me a detention and boot me out of the room. But there were a few times when I emerged from the ring victorious. Though I have to admit…it wasn't as often as I would have liked."

Severus nodded and voiced a question that had been nagging at him since Harry had told him that his older version and he never got along. "So then…why are laughing and smiling in my presence? You'd think that you were so scarred by all you time with older-me, that you'd not want to talk with me." Course, he _had_ fainted at the first sight, but Severus quietly assumed that was just out of having been startled. Why would _any_one be scared in his presence? Sheesh, people could be so judgmental towards Slytherins.

Harry shrugged. "Guess I didn't hate you as much I thought I did." Severus raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, he really doubted that someone could go from hating a person to speaking in an almost friendly manner just like that. Regardless of living state or not.

But the Slytherin just nodded, he didn't press it. Severus had plenty of things in his life that he didn't feel like sharing, who could blame Harry for the same? Plus, it wasn't like they were lifelong friends or anything, Severus was a younger version of a man who'd made Harry's life hell, he'd be hard pressed to be surprised.

"Indeed." He stood up and brushed off his jeans, "Well then, I need to clean up this mess. You're helping." He gave Harry a stern glare, pleased to see the brunette nod quickly. So he wasn't as immune to 'The Snape' as he'd previously surmised.

As Seberus pulled out his wand and began casting numerous cleaning spells on the charred walls and floor, Harry began adjusting the shelves where books or trinkets had fallen off. "Why don't you just get a house elf to do it?" he inquired politely as a late after thought. Severus smirked as he attacked a particularly stubborn grease mark where a jar of flobberworm sweat had shattered against the wall, disgusting stuff, so difficult to get out of upholstery. He'd have to create a potion for quick cleaning, Severus jotted down in his mental notes, always quick to make his own life easier. (Twas the Slytherin way, naturally.)

"Trust me, after the 20th time you request their help they get a bit bored and start thinking up ways to shirk the job in favor of other past times, they're not as dedicated as people think, at least not towards Slytherins. It's easier to just do it myself now." He said, narrowing his eyes and shaking his wand a couple of times in consternation when a suds spell came out spluttering then returning to the task at hand when his wand worked correctly once more.

"I don't doubt it." Harry chuckled. "In my time, my friend, Hermione, decided to stage a house elf rebellion of a sort. They didn't want to, so they now just avoid her whenever possible. I think she believes she doesn't see them as often because they've escaped 'slavery' at the hands of oppressive wizards and witches." Severus smirked and finally banished the stain, turning to cast a quick _reparo_ on a crystal ball he'd turned into a paper weight on his desk before he said anything in turn.

"A House Elf rebellion..." he mused, banishing a small black wisp that tried to burn his sleeve. A possible side effect of the potion? Another jotted note, get that checked out. Of course, it could just be the room, all sorts of strange creatures were attracted to the dark corners and forboding rooms that Severus inhabited. "Interesting, I'm going to make a rational guess and surmise that this friend of your is a muggle-born or half blood?" out of the corner of his eyes he saw Harry nod.

"Yeah, maybe the smartest girl I've ever met, too." he said with a laugh, seeming to levitate a book into it's proper place, something Severus had never seen a regular ghost do. From what he knew, only poltergeists could move objects from the living world. Another thing to investigate when he had free time, Severus decided.

"Really?" he asked, more in politeness than actual interest. Those of the female species had failed to interest him long ago, probably due to traumatization at the hands of a Slytherin he vaguely recalled to be named 'Jannet' or 'Jessie', he really didn't care in the end.

"Smarter than Malfoy," Harry grinned proudly, Severus knew the feeling. That someone could trump over the beautiful, intelligent non-humanoids that were the Malfoy family, he could have sworn when he first met Lucius that he had veela blood running through his veins, but Veela tended to be at least semi-beautiful on the inside as well. Lucius was as ugly as Filch once you got to know the real him. Severus could only imagine how his child would be, a mini, probably haughtier as well, version of him. "She's brill' at Charms, Transfigurations, Arithmatic, Ancient Runes...well, everything I guess. Even your future, evil, snarky self gave her an O."

Severus raised his eyebrow, so he was a hard teacher then. Or he just hated Gryffindors. One or the other, didn't matter to him. "Was she a Gryffindor as well?" he asked as he battled with a still smoldering tapestry, the inhabitants having long evacuated to glare accusingly at him from the neighboring piece. They were almost done cleaning up, Severus just had to cast one last cleaning spell over the whole place and sort through all the spilled ingredients, then they'd be done.

"Yessir!" Harry flourished grandly as he set a small, metal dragon figurine that Severus also used as a paperweight back on it's little clawed paws.

"She sounds as though she'd fit into Ravenclaw more than Gryffindor." The Slytherin frowned as he had to shake his wand again, the stupid lenght of wood just wasn't working as it should be ever since Malfoy had handled it in DADA when they'd been doing a lesson on using other's wands. It finally worked, coincidentally at the same time Harry laughed again, Severus shot him a suspicious glare but the ghost just gave him an innocent look.

"You might be right about that," he commented, tapping his chin in thought. "Then again, there were a lot of people in my year that didn't reallt seem like they were supposed to be Gryffindors, but they proved their courage and might in one way or another." Severus snorted. "What?"

The lanky limbed teen bent over to retrieve a crystal stirring rod from the floor and set it gently with his others in a leather carrier. "Please, to be in a house you have to be made up mostly of the house's known traits." he said. "I'm sure there's plenty of Hufflepuffs that have a couple Ravenclaw traits, but you don't see them sorted there. Or even Gryffindors with Slytherin traits, it doesn't happen like that." a trained eye caught the Harry's flinch at his mention of Gryffindors with Slytherin traits and filed it away for later use.

"If that's true, then what other house traits do you have?" the ghost asked, a challenging glint to his eyes. Severus smirked and waved his wand, murmuring a spell under his breath to sort all his ingredients for him. He'd usually do it on his own, trusting himself more than magic to do the job right, but he was getting tired and was more interested in the conversation at hand.

"Me?" he leaned against one of the three lab tables, an air of nonchalance wafting off his posture as he'd intended. "No other house, I'm a pure Slytherin. Just as I'm sure there are pure Gryffindors and pure Hufflepuffs, Merlin bless the poor things, and pure Ravenclaws. It's not that uncommon, more of an equal ammount to the many that are mutts in that sense."

Harry raised an eyebrow in turn, crossing his arms over his chest. "Uh-huh, so that makes you a purebred if we're talking in pedigree terms?" he smiled, a quirk of the lips that on Severus would look like a smirk, but appeared very friendly on the ghost.

"I do believe that's what I'm implying." Severus replied, folding his own arms loosely over his chest as well. The smiled on Harry's face grew and the Slytherin narrowed his eyes minutely in suspicion, why did it feel like he'd just walked into a trap?

"Purebreds are the ones most likely to get inherent defects due to inbreeding," Harry said smugly, "Mutts don't. Would you consider snarkiness as a defect?" Severus made a strangled sounding snort, trying to hide the surprised chuckle that came from somewhere he thought he'd ditched long ago.

"Indeed." he replied loftily when he'd recovered, clearing his throat testily beforehand. Harry's smile grew wider.

"Then, can I count this as a win?" he asked eagerly. Severus waved his hand dismissively, straightening and heading towards his rooms.

"If it helps you deal with your inherent Gryffindor mediocrity." he said. "I'm going to bed. I'd like to request that you don't mess with my personal belongings."

Harry floated quickly after him. "But what am I supposed to do now? Or tomorrow?" he asked worriedly, remembering his rather unique situation it seemed. Severus shrugged.

"I suppose we'll solve that puzzle tomorrow," he replied. "In the meantime, I'd like to get some rest. I _did_ have a near death experience earlier, and one can always think more clearly with hours of sleep behind them. Good night." he shut the door in the ghosts face, silently telling him not to float through the door or he'd hex him somehow. Luckily no such thing happened and Severus, once he was changed into his predictably black sleep trousers, feel into a deep, untroubled sleep.

* * *

A/N: Boom-Shaka!

Disclaimer in first chapter, so don't count on seeing this baby ever again. Wastes space I could use wasting your time to read my cry for attention, so read on! Kekeke.

Second chapter done! Yay! This is fun...:D. Don't worry, I won't have it always in Sevvie's point of view, I just realized as I was about to include Harry's POV...that I was too lazy to do such a thing and wanted to read instead. Give this poor, aching brain a break. I'll probably have the third chapter with both POV's, so no worries! It's just so fun to write from Sevvie's...is it just me? I suppose I'm attracted to that innate sexy snarkiness that smexy bastard is the embodiment of!

But I digress, my own fantasies aside, I sincerely hope you enjoyed it! I got so many story alerts, is this a promise to review when I've proven that I will actually continue the story? That it's actually worth reading? =3=; eh, I suppose I can support both reasons. I 'aint no review whore...well...okay, maybe I am...AT LEAST I ADMIT IT! *huff huff*

Anywho, please, do continue reading! Even if you're not reviewing, I can feel the love with my hippie antennae! Did I really just type that? Well, I'm not deleting it, so I must be an attention whore! Ding ding ding, we _have _a winner! Oh, you gotta love the sterotypes. :D

Right then, I'll be off, I think someone laced my hot chocolate with loads of sugar (Wait...that was me, never mind), so I haveta run it off or something. Bu~ut, I can't do that...it's dark outside, I'd get kidnapped and raped by a clown in a windowless white van, not a good idea now...guess I'll sleep it off then. I think I'd get raped in my dreams anyways, so there's little difference. Tata! *waggles fingers*

~Witty


	3. Butchering Songs is a Hobby

"Hey Severus?" the Slytherin in question blinked blearily as a soft but urgent voice dragged him from his dreams of the fame and power he would hold one day, he was sure. "Wake up, Severus." His vision cleared finally as well as, regretfully, his mind and Severus found himself face to face with an inquisitive green gaze.

"Gah!" he yelped jolting up, going straight though the ghost's body and falling off the side of his bed, hitting the floor with a loud thump and a flailing of limbs. "Merlin's magically endowed ball sack!" he cursed, rather colorfully if I might add, clambering to his feet and rubbing his sore bottom indignantly as he glared dagger at the ghost boy who gazed at him intently.

"Oh good, you're awake." Harry stated, a wry smile on his lips, but Severus just scowled at him. The Slytherin was _not_ a morning person, and nearly being given a heart attack didn't help one bit. In fact, it turned the lanky limbed teen into something akin to a fire breathing dragon.

"I told you not to come in here!" he burst out, jabbing a finger at the ghost's chest, ignoring the fact that it just went through his chest and Harry's fearless grin. "Bloody hell, were you _trying_ to kill me?" he crossed his arms over his bare chest, then realized he had no shirt on…and cursed again as he tripped over his own feet to pull open his wardrobe and pull out a back jumper and don the article of clothing in record time.

"Modest, are we?" Harry grinned at him and Severus scowled back. Stupid Gryffindor, the Slytherin was already planning his castration and torment. Though his current ghostly state did put a damper on his plans for revenge…eh, it'll all work out somehow.

"I told you not to come in here." He ended up repeating, fixing his best glare on his face, the one he used on little first year Hufflepuffs when they crossed his path. But it failed to faze the ghost before him, nothing ever seemed to, to Severus' immense consternation.

"Technicalities," Harry waved off the statement airily with a smile, a smile that irked Severus no ends. "But anyways, I did come with a purpose, not just to discover your remarkable sense of modesty." The Slytherin didn't bother gracing the teasing comment in favor of glaring at him some more with the addition of one elegantly arched eyebrow, the mirror told him it was and who was he to distrust what a mirror said?

"So then speak," he cast a quick tempus, it was 2 in the morning he saw with a groan. "and Merlin hope it be bloody cat scat good, or you'll find yourself hexed in some manner." He raised his wand to enforce the threat and Harry raised his hands in a calming gesture, thought it did nothing to calm the riled up Slytherin.

"Ah, well, I was just wondering if I go go wander around," he said quickly, apparently still wary of the other teen, Severus guessed he was reminded of the older version, the apparent Potion's Professor. (Hopefully he'd also be rich beyond his wildest dreams, because quite frankly Severus couldn't see himself living on the near nonexistent pay that a teacher received.) "Cause, well, I'm bored and I thought I should ask you, or tell you. Incase you wake up and I'm not back yet."

Severus' eyebrow remained arched and he muttered something under his breath about hallucinating Gryffindors and the need for more sleep. "Why the hell are you asking me?" He replied sharply and turned to set his wand beside his bed once more and climb under the sheets, drawing them up to his chin and closing his eyes, intent on falling asleep once more.

"Er…Severus?" the ghost asked by the foot of his bed, the Slytherin cracked an eye open irritably.

"Go away." He grumbled and turned on his side, intent on catching a few hours of sleep before classes.

"But…I was just checking..." The ghost's voice was by his head now and Severus grunted noncommittally, good for him. Why the bloody hell was he asking him? Just go and be a stupid, dumb Gryffindor in the corridors, bothering porttraits and suits of unsteady armor. He needed sleep, and no way was he letting anyone or anything keep him from getting it.

There was silence and Severus supposed that the Gryffindor had left him alone finally with a feeling of satisfaction. Finally.

Then the humming started. At first it was tuneless, just a mindless drone that Severus swore was meant to drive him crazy and just when he was about to snap at Harry to shut it the sound stopped. Long enough for him to be on the brink of sleep and consciousness, and then it started up again, thought this time it was a tune.

Nothing sophisticated, like Beethoven, but suspiciously sounding like 'Mary had a little lamb'. Of course, only to be expected of a simple minded Gryffindor and the son of his mortal enemy, no less.

And then Harry began humming, reasons unknown, a tune that managed to grate on every nerve the Slytherin possessed. Just as he was truly about to grab his wand and hex the ghostly balls off the Gryffindor, Harry began quietly singing as well. And he was completely, utterly horrible at it.

The teen managed to butcher a song that Severus had never liked in the first place, a muggle song that he'd been forced to listen to as a child to the point of being brainwashed by his father, who worshipped the very ground the particular band walked.

"Carry on my wayward so-on," Harry sang softly, voice horribly off key and cracking like a boy hitting puberty. Severus cringed under the sheets and felt his hand itch to grab his wand, but restrained himself, in the hope that the boy would realized just how awful he was and stop. But that didn't seem like it was to be, the Fates hated Severus. "There'll be peace when you are do-one. So lay your weary head to re-est, don't you cry no more."

It also turned out, that Harry only knew those few verses. And instead of just leaving it, he began repeating the words over and over and over and over again. Severus finally grabbed his wand and pointed it at the startled, wide eyed Gryffindor.

"Stop. Bloody. Singing." He growled through clenched teeth, barely restraining himself from roaring. "Or I swear, I will hex your bloody arse to whatever level of hell you were sent from to torment me."

Harry looked offended. "I'm not _that_ bad at singing." He said, affronted. Severus groaned under his breath and pinched his nose before looking back up at the green eyes youth.

"You have to be one of the worst singers I've ever heard in my existence, and I've heard some pretty bad ones." He assured him, still glaring intensely. The other teen looked cowed for a few seconds before straightening and crossing his arms defiantly over his chest.

"You're saying that because of who I am." He stated, clearly disillusioned. Severus raised his eyes to the heavens, oh whoever is up there. Please save me from this torment! He pleaded silently; I might stop slipping laxatives into the Ravenclaws' food before tests if you do! Apparently that wasn't enough, Merlin knew why, Severus thought it was a good deal personally, because the ghost stayed floating before him.

No bolt of lightning or bodily boils or smiting of the arms, or even sudden death, well, there wasn't _that_ much that could be done for the whole dying thing…since he was, you know, already dead. But that was just a technicality, Severus was sure whoever was up there could manage something if he really tried.

"If I could record that…noise, then I would," Severus finally replied, "but at the same time, I don't believe my eardrums could withstand the assault. You make the death gargle of a kneazle sound pleasant. I assure you. Why don't you go wander, like you said you were going to?"

Harry huffed and turned away. "Fine, I can see when I'm not wanted," 'Not nearly soon enough.' Severus' mutter was ignored in favor of a hurt and clearly Gryffindoric speech. "clearly you can't appreciate good music, probably due to your inherent Slytherin bad taste." Yup, that was a speech. It was the best any Gryffindor could do, Severus noted, probably because of some sort of genetic defect that sent them to such a horrible house in the first place. I mean, look at that color scheme! Did they want to send any possible epileptic student into immediate seizures?

Such bright colors probably dulled the senses and destroyed the few brain cells all 'Lions' started with, Lily excluded because everyone knew she was really a Ravenclaw. Not seeing the point in continuing the argument with Harry, twas clear Severus would win and he was really much too tired to expend the minute amount of effort needed to crush the teen's hopes and dreams.

Severus knew he could, having crushed many a hope and dream from seventh year Gryffindors to the smallest Hufflepuff. (He was rather proud of his track record, having saved many a prestigious company from having to go through all those hopeless applicants because Severus had enough sense to weed them out before hand to help out, free of charge of course.) Of course, those were the people who always ended up working as low-class prostitutes, for crack addicts and the like, no high-end athletes or politicians.

So maybe that wasn't too good an idea…meh, Severus shook his head in his head to rid himself of the unsure thought. Indecision got you nowhere in life, and those stupid idiots who would buy a stupid prostitute in the first place had their magical STD's coming to them anyways.

The Slytherin Head boy was jerked from his thoughts, by the ghost still standing-floating- in front of him. "Well?" he asked, an eyebrow raised and arms crossed imperiously over his chest.

Severus grunted and lay down again, pulling the covers over his head. "Now I'm go to sleep and you leave my room. Without the singing." He grumbled, peeking over the edge of the covers to glare at the now affronted teen.

"You're boring." Harry practically pouted, Severus grunted again. If it got him a decent night's sleep, hell, he'd pull a 'Binns' and monotone his way through school. He heard Harry sigh and fist pumped in triumph inwardly, Yes! Finally! "Alright, alright. I'll shut up. Suppose I could go wander now...all alone...by myself...alone..."

Severus didn't bother telling him he was just repeating himself, and that all he was going to get for his troubles was an irrate Slytherin. As he burrowed deeper under his covers, Severus heard nothing of him getting out. A suspicious look out from under his covers had him groaning in self-pity. He was just _sitting_ there, well floating really, _watching_ him. How creepy could a person get?

"Go bug a portrait." He snarled wearily, now he remembered why he never made an effort to make friends with Gryffindors, or the other houses for that matter. They were so…_social_. Severus shuddered at the thought, the day a Slytherin became social with the other houses, was the day Severus stabbed himself in the eyes with an infected spoon, no, fork? Spork?

Regardless, he'd be rendering himself blind and maybe deaf later, perhaps with a quill or another sharp utensil, a knife maybe. A thoughtful look crossed Harry's face. Oh Merlin, _finally_.

"You know," he began. "That might work…great idea Severus! See you in the morning!" and, to the Slytherin's immense relief, he floated away. Leaving Severus to roll his eyes, he'd been telling him to do that all this time, then pull the covers back over his head and fall asleep quickly.

-.-.-.-

"You'd think that with all the frames you see around Hogwarts, at least a few would actually have interesting people to chat with." Harry grumbled as he floated pitifully down corridor after corridor. Apparently when whoever had furnished the place had been buying paintings, they hadn't stopped to check on their interesting-ness and whether or not a student would have fun chatting them up.

Of course, what student ever had time to chat up a portrait? Harry certainly never did, he had to admit, but now that he was a ghost and didn't sleep…looked like an awful lot of lonely, boring nights ahead of him.

At least it wasn't too bad, he consented rather grudgingly, he could still be seen by the living, judging by his and Severus' conversations. And he had poltergeist abilities, maybe him and Peeves could hook up later and prank people? That would certainly be fun, Harry mused as he floated on, passing a suit of armor with curious claw marks on its metal legs, as though a cat had used it for a scratching pole.

But he couldn't just fill his time with pranking and the occasional, self-esteem destroying conversation with Severus. If he could just find a nice portrait, someone preferably more interesting than a snoring ex-tailor or a droning on in reminiscence ex-Auror. What was with people and recounting every single little happenstance that ever occurred to them? Seriously, no one liked it.

With nothing else to do, Harry began aimlessly wandering around the dark, probably cold dungeons of Hogwarts. Not paying a whit to where he was going, he could just float on back through the walls, right? Ghost were good like that, he supposed. And so he went.

-.-.-.-

"Where am I…?" Harry wondered aloud as he floated down a hall he'd never seen before, and he'd always thought that he'd been to every corner and explored ever hidden passage there was in the magical castle/school/inhabitance.

A snort of laughter somewhere before him startled Harry, he shot up a few feet in surprise. "Wh-who's there?" he demanded of the gloom before him. An airy giggle met his words.

"Been a while since we've been referred to as anything other than 'it'," a voice commented rather dryly. Female by the sound of it, although it was a little rough, like pebbles scraping against each other. "I think I rather like it."

Harry floated forward cautiously, straining his ghostly eyes in the dark to see the owner of the voice. "Seriously, who's there?" he asked, curiosity overcoming fear and embarrassment at being startled.

"It's not _that_ funny, Lady Grenda," a second voice came out of nowhere, female as well and sounding more...oily, if one could say that. "if he started saying we were men, then _that'd_ be worth chuckling my frame off." Her statement was followed by another snort of laughter.

"Yeah, well, I don't have any fancy shmancy platinum and gold frame to chuckle off." The first voice replied, Lady Grenda apparently, "All I can laugh off is the dust collecting on my rather uncomfortably posed shoulders. I mean, really, what was that sculptor thinking when he made them all slope-y like that? Ridiculous, completely demeans my power and grace."

"Umm, excuse me?" Harry called out tentatively, "I don't mean to break up your chat, but…umm, where am I? If you're not going to give me any identities." The snort and giggle were in synch this time, Harry flinched.

"Oops, sorry 'bout that kiddo." The second voice apologized. "Me and Lady Grenda, we don't get much company here in the forgotten corridor, as is implied by the name. Dreary really, I wish the Headmaster, whoever it is right now, would change it."

"I concur, a ridiculous name if I've ever heard one. So cliché and boorish." Lady Grenda piped in, Harry floated closer to their voices, but it was too dark to see anything.

"Is there a light anywhere? Or something, I can't see either of you, sorry." Harry spoke up finally, and the too laughed together again.

"Oh, I'm sorry. We've been in the darkness for so long that we've forgotten what it's like to be in the light and not see, I think I could for a bat's grandmother now." The second voice chuckled and the first gave a derisive snort.

"Bats don't see in the dark, they use something called 'echolocation'." They corrected her haughtily. "You really should have gone to school."

The second voice muttered something under her breath, and then spoke up, loud enough for Harry to hear her. "Unlike you, Miss Wealthy Widow, I was never given the chance." They paused and seemed to remember that Harry was still in the vicinity, listening. "Oh yeah, sorry 'bout that, kiddo. One second, I'll just do something about that light problem…" they trailed off then a light flickered uncertainly in the corridor, giving Harry the ability to see once more. "There we go! You're welcome, kiddo."

Harry was surprised at what he saw in the light, facing each other across the hall in the otherwise empty corridor was a life size statue of a sloped shouldered lady dressed in very full skirts and adorned with jewelry and attached to a wall so their faces were parallel, a large painting of a less conservatively dressed woman from the waist up hung. Both looked at him expectantly.

"Oh, thanks." Harry offered up a small smile and the painting nodded to him, while the statue fluttered her hand in dismissal.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all, we rarely get company at all. It's truly a pleasure to meet you Mister…" he was surprised to see that he lips actually moved as she spoke, based off her voice he guessed her to be the one named Lady Grenda.

"Harry," he said hastily. "Harry Potter." She inclined her stone head in acknowledgment,

"A good, plain and strong name, indeed. My name, young one, is Lady Grenda." She smiled approvingly then shot a look at the now silent portrait. "It wouldn't hurt to introduce yourself to our young guest."

"I wasn't refraining from doing so," the woman replied, widening her eyes in innocence before turning her head to Harry. "Maggie Cher is my name; I am what many back in my time referred to as a troubadour. The Lady Grenda over there is, or was, a wealthy widow."

Lady Grenda looked affronted, clasping a hand lightly around her throat and staring reproachfully at the painting. "How rude can you get, Maggie? Please, have some sensibility. Young Mr. Harry is probably pondering the decision to leave if his mind is not already made up due to your crass attitude."

Maggie snorted, crossing tanned arms over a heavily embroidered chest covering, the only piece of clothing Harry could see on her torso. "Oh please, I doubt he's going to be fooled by your benevolent, kind, gracious widow act." She replied, smiling smugly. "I mean, how cliché can one get. Not every coupling of partners must be different in nature. Which I'm sure he's already aware of."

Lady Grenda crossed her marble arms over her chest as well and huffed. "I am _not_ that easily seen through." She said. Harry watched them in interest, it seemed his presence had, yet again, been forgotten in favor of another likely common argument.

Their banter continue for a few minutes as the ghost watched, the statue and the portrait debating the plausibility of his believing Lady Grenda's act, when they got to a point at which both turned to him expectantly. "Did you believe her?" Maggie demanded, Lady Grenda echoing the question more demurely and in her point of view.

Harry stared back like a deer caught in headlights, the shrugged weakly. "Er, I guess," he admitted finally and Lady Grenda 'hah!'d at Maggie, who looked pointedly away, nose in the air. "Well, until you started accusing her of acting, at least…" this time Maggie crowed in triumph but Lady Grenda began arguing that it had taken someone to tell him she was acting for him to notice.

Maggie insisted that it didn't matter, he hadn't believed it in the end, and it continued on like that. Harry was once more conveniently forgotten. After waiting a little while longer to see if they would remember he was there, which they never did, Harry sighed and turned to go. It was probably just easier to find his own way out, the two ladies were constantly distracted by each other and never seemed to get anywhere.

"Ah! Young Mr. Harry!" Lady Grenda called as he began floating dejectedly away. Harry turned, giving her a questioning look. "Will you come back to visit? We are rather lonely, you know." Harry nodded meekly, it didn't seem like he would be able to say no to the pleading tone in her pebbly voice.

Maggie nodded and smiled at him. "Great, I won't have to listen to her boasting about her dead husband anymore!" she crowed, ignoring the dirty look the animated statue shot her. Harry offered a weak smile and floated away off in the hopes that he'd find his way back to Severus' rooms before the next week, highly unlikely based off his track record in things going his way ever.

They'd find his ghostly bones glowing in some dark corner someday and wonder who they'd belonged to, he was sure. Why couldn't ghosts have an innate sense of direction? Like wolves? Or fish upstream? It seemed awfully useless to have the ability to float through walls if you didn't know where you were going to end up. In fact, Harry had accidentally stumbled on a rather embarrassing scene of mating rodents at one point.

He wished he could have obliviated himself. But _no_, he had no wand. A cool breeze was emitted from his mouth in a forlorn sigh. Being a ghost just wasn't very fun, why _didn't_ they have an inner compass? Harry lamented.

With another ghostly sigh and slumped shoulders, the ex-Gryffindor floated aimlessly down the corridors, humming a familiar tune and occasionally putting horribly off-tune words to the notes. "Carry one my wayward so-o, they'll be peace when you are do-on, lay your weary head to re-est, don't you cry no more."

* * *

A/N: That's all for now folks! This chapter was longer than I had expected, that's for sure…of course, I hadn't actually been planning on incorporating my dears Maggie and Lady Grenda. But in the end I was compelled to. (The POWER OF CHRIST COMPELLS THEE! *roar with a dash of holy water*)

Yeah, yeah. Everyone hates OC's, but these two won't actually be in the story all that much, they are after all in the _forgotten corridor_, oooh, shiver in fear my maties! Anywho, the most they'll be doing anyways in this…is arguing with each other and giving the occasional piece of well-meaning but completely misleading advice to our young and dead hero. (Is it just me, of was that description rather contradictory? *TAKE THAT!*)

Oh yes, in case you were wondering. The song he was singing quite horribly was 'Carry on Wayward Son' by Kansas. It's a beautiful song, I adore it myself. But I can never bring myself to believe that Harry is a good singer, as some people would have us believe. I think it's funny when he sucks. I myself am no nightinggale...more of a mockingbird. And my friends, dear dear friends, love to cringe and hide when I begin belting out that particular song. (Know it by heart. :D)

Gues what? Guess what? Didja guess? No? Eh, no matter, I'll tell yah 'what'! I actually managed to get a good-ish Harry POV! Woot~ I'm so proud of myself. *pats on back*

My hands smell like cooking oil…blech. I have not cooked today…the hell…?

Well, back to the subject at hand. Loved that…_one_ review I got. *clenched teeth* I love you all, really, thanks for the alerts, but really. Would it kill you to drop a hello? An 'Oh, this is decent'? Or even, a 'God this sucks, you should fucking stop writing because you're never going to get anywhere!'? I'm not picky, truly. In _faaact_, I rather like flames, they make me feel good inside. Or is that just another pitiful cry for attention? Why yes it is, good on you maties, yah caught me. Bad llama. *slaps self* ;3

Alright, I need sleep. Before I start spouting my personal info, like my favorite potato brands or hated time of the year. Pffft, yeah. Good day, adieu, adios, go away, fuck off…whatever floats your sinkin' boats fellers. Imma going to sleep, see yah in the land of dreams sap-suckering-crud-monkeys! :-D

~Witty


	4. We Deal in Baby Livers

Severus was slowly eating breakfast, sitting at the end of the Slytherin table where no one could bother him easily, when his still sleepy brain remembered that he hadn't seen a certain green-eyed ghost all morning. _Eh, it was probably just some dream from fume inhalation. _He shrugged it off, chewing on a syrup-coated sausage. _As if Lily would ever have a child with that Gryffindork._

His eyes traveled to the Gryffindor table where the 'Gryffindork' in question was fooling around with the rest of his followers and waving around a speared pancake, flinging melted butter everywhere and causing everyone in the general vicinity to cower.

Severus snorted in derision. _No, he didn't think intelligent, sensible Lily Evans would ever fall for a lunk head like Potter. _But as his dark eyes flicked to where the red-head was sitting, a fair distance away from the flashy idiot, he noted that she was watching Potter, an unreadable expression in her brilliant green eyes. The Slytherin looked down at his food and viciously speared another sausage, intent on ignoring the meaning of that expression completely.

"Mr. Snape." A dark, brooding voice interrupted his thoughts and Severus looked up. The Bloody Baron was staring at him across the table, arms crossed and brows furrowed.

"Baron?" the Slytherin asked, more than a little confused as to why the ghost would want to initiate conversation with him. Although he might be the Slytherin ghost, he didn't really interact all that much with the house students.

"I found a ghost wandering lost in the dungeons. He says he knows you." The Bloody Baron replied. Severus raised an eyebrow and sighed inwardly. Looks like it wasn't a dream, then.

"Oh, okay." He muttered. "Where is he?" The Bloody Baron tilted his head in the direction of the doors leading outside.

"Out there. Said something about being too scared to come in. Merlin knows why." He grumbled and floated off, probably to scare the first years sleeping in. The ghost had a strange habit of only appearing often to the earlier years, mostly to scare the crap out of them, but detested anyone over the age of 12. Severus didn't want to think about the reason why.

So the Slytherin left his breakfast and walked outside, aware that his Head of House was watching him as well as the Headmaster himself. _I'm not that suspicious am I?_ He mused as he pushed past the huge doors and looked around, there was no one but a couple first years in Slytherin dress hurrying past with frightened eyes and pale faces. _Well, granted, there was that incident the other day with a tongue-loosening potion in a Hufflepuff's drink…but I had no idea he was so…strange. I don't think I can ever look Filch in the eyes again._

"Severus?" a translucent hand stretched out from the shadows and Severus most certainly did _not_ jump and he would never admit to having let out a very un-manly squeak, even if under Veritaserum. But that didn't keep the ghost boy from laughing as he floated out of the shadows, green eyes twinkling.

"Why are you so scared of coming into the Great Hall?" Severus asked abruptly. Harry's eyes widened, startled by the sudden question.

"Er, well," he looked around quickly and dropped his voice, Severus felt like he was about to negotiate the price for a baby liver and had to resist hunching his shoulders and sweeping up the collar on his neatly pressed shirt. "my _parents_ are in there." Then the boy settled back, as though that was all he had to say. Severus raised an eyebrow.

"How boorishly inane and stupid a reason," he muttered, ignoring the ghost's indignant squawk. "They'd see you at one point or another, unless you hole up in some abandoned classroom or my rooms and never leave."

"But, if they know I'm their son…" Harry adopted his 'baby-liver-selling' stance; once again it was hard for Severus to not do the same. His hand twitched at his side and his had to physically restrain it. "Then…wouldn't the whole time/space continuum be screwed over? I-it could mess up the timeline!" he finished his 'speech' with a raised voice.

Severus arched his eyebrow once more, "Please," he scoffed, "for all you know the person who sent you here sent you to a different dimension, where the timeline hasn't been created and thusly can't be disrupted. And really, if time could be screwed over so easily, don't you think they'd place a complete ban on time travel? Really, think about it."

"Did you just say 'thusly'?" Harry asked. Severus stared at him, semi-incredulously.

"Is that _all_ you have to say? Really?" he snorted and turned. "I'm going to go finish my breakfast, being alive I _do_ need my nutrition. If you aren't coming then go get lost again, maybe you'll become fast friends with the Bloody Baron." And he walked towards to the doors.

"Agh! Wait!" Harry exclaimed, Severus stopped and looked back. "Fine, fine. I'll come in with you. Your House ghost gives me the creeps and I have feelings you know. Being dead wasn't my plan."

Severus smirked, it was always good to get started on the daily quota early. "Wonderful, maybe then you'll latch onto your future mum and pops, and not me. Or Headmaster, he'll be delighted to meet you I bet." He noted Harry's flinch when he mentioned Dumbledore, but didn't comment on it.

"Yay…" he heard the ghost mutter despondently as he turned once more, with a smirk thrown in for the sake of it. "I _love_ awkward silences."

Severus didn't comment as he pushed open the doors and walked resolutely back to his seat. Silence fell as the ghost floated rather dejectedly after him, the Slytherin couldn't help but be reminded of a kicked puppy, the way his green eyes stared pitifully out from under his brown fringe and his lower lip quivered minutely.

The skinny teen felt the urge to kick it again. But he had to restrain the urge, like he had to for many, because as his mum always said: 'You should only kick the puppy if the puppy has reached level 8 or above on the pitiful look scale. Any lower and you'll be getting in trouble for no reason.' Severus figured that Harry's pitiful look was around a 6 or 7.

-.-.-.-

Harry was rather unnerved by the silence that greeted his arrival behind Severus. He licked his figuratively dry lips nervously, looking around him in darting glances at the Slytherin table where Severus was just sitting down to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, the former staring at him in interest while the latter tittered curiously with one another.

Then his eyes fell onto the Gryffindor table and picked out the five people that meant the most to him in the future, four of them for the righteous deeds they did and one for his absolute betrayal to the light.

He almost fainted again.

But the words of Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and a lot of other completely ridiculous things, rescued him from that particularly embarrassing scene. "Excuse me, young man. But I don't believe I've seen you here before, might I ask your name?"

Harry looked up at the head table, where the twinkly-eyed man was alive and standing up to gaze curiously at him. The ghost cleared his throat and when his spoke, a mere whisper, it could be heard in all corners of the room. Evidently he was doomed to attention whether or not he was dead and in the wrong world or not.

"Harry, sir." He said softly, meek for the second time since he'd been transported to the wrong time and perhaps the wrong dimension. "Harry Potter."

The Great Hall erupted into noise, shouts of disbelief and incredulity. Was he really a Potter? Why is he dead? Where'd he come from? Why was he with Snape? Can you please pass the syrup? Were some of the many queries voiced.

Harry looked again at his father, the trio that surrounded him, and his mother who sat a good number of seats over. They were all staring at him in wide-eyed shock. The ghost swallowed and turned away, looking back up at Dumbledore.

Blue eyes twinkled curiously down at him and the Headmaster moved from his seat and before Harry. "Why don't we discuss this further in my office?" he asked kindly. Harry nodded, face carefully blank. He thought he might cry if he said anything.

Dumbledore nodded and, to Harry's surprise, turned to Severus next. "Mr. Snape, if you would come as well? I believe that this may concern you as well, seeing as how you found Mr. Potter first." The Slytherin hesitated for a split-second before nodding rather cautiously and standing as well.

"Oh course, Headmaster." He replied, bowing his head respectfully. Harry was impressed, the first time he'd ever seen the greasy-haired teen ever admit inferiority to another, and the Headmaster no less. He held back the amused snort that disrupted his cool façade and followed Dumbledore as he led the two of them to his office.

"Gaseous Great Grey Grapes." The elderly man told the gargoyle, who slid obediently to the side. Harry saw Severus quirk an eyebrow and smiled faintly, seems the Headmaster was addicted to alliteration in this time.

The ghost let the two living people go first and floated up after them, where he settled into a seat beside Severus, while the Headmaster sat down at his desk.

"So, Harry is it?" Dumbledore began after a couple seconds of awkward silence. Harry nodded.

"Yes sir," he replied softly, feeling a bit cowed by the powerful man, he seemed much stronger now than he did in the future. "Harry Potter."

"Why am I really here, Headmaster?" Severus asked abruptly, leaning forward to stare at Dumbledore, a query in his eyes. "Just because I was the first to find him, doesn't mean I should be questioned beside him. He's a Potter, get his parents." Harry couldn't help but agree, although at the same time he was rather hurt. Unlike the Severus Snape in his time, this one didn't have the same excuses to be prejudiced against him. And he _had_ been almost half-decent the night before…apart from all the cursing and threats.

"In due time, my dear boy, in due time." Dumbledore replied peaceably, Harry thought he heard Severus mutter something along the lines of 'in due time you'll find yourself hexed with blue balls...if they aren't already.' as the teen's countenance darkened considerably. If Dumbldore heard the mutinous muttering, he didn't comment, preferring instead to turn to Harry. "Would you mind explaining to me how you came to be like this?"

Harry shrugged, feeling small whisps coming off his body at the motion. "Sure, I suppose." he took an unnecessarily deep breath before he began, noting the sarcastic snort from Severus and reminding himself to do something prank-ish to the Slytherin later. "Something happened back where I came from, something that cost me my life. But I guess I wasn't supposed to die then and the person who was supposed to send me back, as a ghost since my body had already been cremated when the mistake was realized, wasn't good at their job and sent me here instead of the right time and place."

Dumbledore nodded and stroked his silvery beard idly. "Interesting, quite interesting." he murmured thoughtfully. "What do you think, Fawkes?" Harry started as a melodic trill answered the aging man. He'd forgotten all about the phoenix! He looked to where the stand had been in his time and saw it still there, with the magnificent fire bird perched delicately as he appeared to speak to Dumbledore, the old man nodding and 'hmmming' occasionally.

Harry looked back at Severus, who was sitting stiff in his chair, back upright and eyes staring stonily forward. The ghost sighed and crossed his arms. _This is really boring._ He commented silently, like it needed to be said. _Does it really take this long to discuss a short explanation? _He looked over at the Headmaster and the bird, the former listening intently while the latter trilled on and on and on. It really didn't seem like they were going to be done anytime soon, so Harry settled back and looked around the office.

It was almost exactly as he remembered it, trinkets littering every available surface, an endless game of chess on a side table beside Dumbledore's desk, a small bowl of lemon drops Harry had always suspected were laced with calming draughts, and sheaves of paperwork in haphazard piles that would be attended to hopefully sometime in the near future. Although it was rather unlikely, knowing the Headmaster and what he preferred to do when he sat in his office. (Planning his next great meddling in the lives of his insanely loyal pawns.)

Harry was disrupted from his examination as Fawkes fell silent, preening his feathers, and the Headmaster leaned back in his seat to chuckle lightly over his interlaced fingers. "Well then, Mr. Potter," he began, nodding to Harry then Severus, "and Mr. Snape, Fawkes and I have come to an agreement on what shall be done."

"What then?" Harry asked, leaning forward eagerly, in the corner of his eye he saw everus adopt the same stance rather reluctantly but with a more sullen expression afixed on his sallow face. Dumbledore looked at Harry, a question in his eyes.

"Would you be wanting to return to your time, Mr. Potter?" he asked, Harry didn't pause before he shook his head vehemently.

"No way, Headmaster," he said, "there's nothing there for me to look forward to, not anymore at least." he ignored the sharp glance that earned him from Severus.

Dumbledore nodded wisely. "I see, then I'd like to extend to you an offer of becoming one of the Hogwarts ghosts." he said grandly.

"Really?" Harry stared at him in shock he didn't bother to try and conceal, beside him Severus choked on soemthing, the elderly man nodded. Harry furrowed his brows. "But...wouldn't that screw up the timeline? I mean, we don't know if I'm from a different dimension, so wouldn't it be best to put caution to the wind?"

Dumbledore nodded, a knowing twinkle to his powder blue eyes. "We've considered that possibility," he replied rather loftily, "Fawkes assures me that the Fates would ensure that you were in the right place at the right time if they'd already messed up once."

Harry sat back in his seat, mind blank. Was that all it took? Him becoming a ghost and suddenly all his wishes were coming true? His parents alive and young, Sirius alive, Remus happy and, dare he admit it, Severus alive as well? It seemed almost too good. Harry felt a spike of uncertainty through the cavity where his heart once beat. "I-I don't know." he admitted honestly, looked down at his see through hands. "I mean...is it that easy? It doesn't seem right, really. I feel like I'm going to wake up any second now in the Hospital Wing, a bludger to the head from a Quidditch match."

He looked almost desperately up at the Headmaster. "How do you know if this is the right choice? What if this is another mistake?" those blue eyes twinkled at him again, this time in a reassuring manner. Beside him Severus arched a brown and snorted softly, probably wondering why he was still there.

"I assure you, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore replied, his voice soft and comforting. "that it's perfectly okay. Fawkes knows what he's doing, you have no need to fear and repercussions."

Harry nodded weakly and managed a smile. "I-I guess I will then," he said finally. "accept your offer to become a Hogwarts ghost." Dumbledore clapped his hands ecstatically and beamed at him.

"Wonderful my dear boy!" he exclaimed exuberantly. "Simply wonderful!"

Severus chose that time to interject. "So then, why am I needed?" he asked and stood up from his seat. "Seems like everything was sorted out just fine without me. Can I leave now? I'm late to Charms already." The Headmaster waved at him to sit back down, waiting to speak once he had complied slowly.

"This is actually where you come in, Mr. Snape." he said cheerfully. It was Harry's turn to quirk an eyebrow in question, the old man wasn't making sense in this time either. "See, when one becomes a ghost of Hogwarts, one is usually bound to a house."

"So then bind him to Gryffindor," Severus snapped. "That's where his bloody parents are!" Dumbledore ignored his language and Harry stared at him, a seed of worry implanting in his mind. Where was the Headmaster going with this?

"Ah, but you see, Mr. Snape," the Headmaster continued, his calming tone doing nothing to ease the agitated Slytherin. "There can only be one ghost per house."

Severus crossed his arms obstinately and Harry felt dread wash over him. The Headmaster wasn't about to suggest what he thought he was about to suggest, was he? "I still don't see where I fit into everything, bind him to the kitchens or something. You don't need me."

"Alright, well, there _can_ be more than one," Dumbledore corrected himself. "But it's never happened before. But that's not where I'm going with this, I thinking that Mr. Potter could be a ghost of all the houses, if you are agreeable to that. You won't have ties to any of them so you can root for whatever team to win in Quidditch and you may associate freely with any house member." Harry shrugged, he didn't really care about the details.

"_Still_ don't see where I tie into this." Severus grumbled from the sidelines. Dumbledore chuckled and sent him an amused look.

"Don't worry, Mr. Snape," he told the teen. "You're part in this will be revealed, right now in fact: See, I need someone to be able to show young Mr. Potter the ropes around Hogwarts and you know the most out of near everyone I could consider." Severus looked at him suspiciously.

"But he already knows about Hogwarts, I'm pretty sure he was a student before everything that happened to him well...happened to him." he replied stifly. Harry sighed.

"I'm right here, you know." he muttered, Severus shot him an irritated look while Dumbledore smiled blandly,

"Yes, I'm sure that's true," the Headmaster replied. "However, there _are_ merits to interactong with each other." Severus snorted.

"Don't you dare go spouting nonsense about house-unity, please." he snapped.

The Headmaster looked rather hurt. "I understand that you are still sore over your rather heated argument with Ms. Evans, Mr. Snape," he said soothingly, "However, that is no excuse to not aid a person in need. And Mr. Potter here is in need of your help, correct?" he looked over at the ghost in question and Harry couldn't help but nod hesitantly when those blue eyes focused on him.

"Er...yes?"

"There we go! Now that that's settled, I'll just key you into the Hogwarts wards and you can be off." Dumbledore practically bubbled. Harry smiled weakly over at Severus, who glared at him and turned away. A sudden jolt hit the ghost and Harry looked over at the Headmaster, who was brandishing his wand and looking wuite proud of himself.

"Huh?"

"There we go!" the elderly man announced cheerfully. "All set! Off you go then! Be sure to stay with Mr. Snape, Mr. Potter, and I'm sure you'll be just fine!"

Harry nodded, a bit blown away by the sudden turn of events. "Ah, okay..." he trailed off then jolted out of the chair when Severus stood and walked quickly out of the office. Harry followed as quickly as he could, hearing Dumbledore call one last thing to him before he was completely out of hearing.

"I'll be checking in on you to see how things progress! And Good luck, dear boys!"

Then they were past the gargoyle, which slid back into place, and Severus was storming off down the corridor.

Harry floated hurriedly after him. "Ah! Wait up, Severus!" he called, "Don't leave me behind!"

* * *

There you have it! Chapter four! Finally...sorry about that, by the way. I've been amazingly busy with school work(AP classes are deadly) and was banned from my computer for a week. But there you have it! Although, I must say I wasn't expecting it to turn out this way. But I suppose it's set itself up for what I've got (loosely)planned for it! :D So that's good.

I don't think this story will have much of a plot, it'll be mainly just Harry getting to meet his parents and co. in a setting where the timeline can't be screwed over and getting closer to our favorite Slytherin!~

Tell me if you think it's worth pursuing!(Bit late for that...inn't it? :D) Oh yes, almost forgot: Thank you so much to those who reviewed! It made me feel all bubbly inside that people like what I write! Hopefully I'll write up to your expectations, but you never know! 'Til next time my lovelies!

~Witty


	5. Potions Class of the Filler Chapter Kind

"So, you're a ghost, right?" Harry groaned inwardly as the question was posed for the umpteenth time that day.

"Yes, I'm a ghost." he replied politely, restraining himself almost physically from snapping at the inquisitive Hufflepuff that had tiptoed up to him, large eyes watery as they threatened to spill over with tears if Harry didn't acknowledge her existence. Harry wished he could still cry. Well, he didn't actually wish he could cry, that'd make him look all weak and _girly_, but he wished he could produce bodily fluids. Er, like sweat, I mean.

The Hufflepuff, a skinny little waif that was probably ten years older than she looked, they all did, brightened considerably and opened her mouth to ramble off countless more questions. But she was cut off by a sour, irritated voice that sent her skittering away, to hide in a corner and shiver most likely.

"We're supposed to be going to Potions now, Potter." Severus growled. "Not _socializing_." Harry wondered at the little shiver he gave when he emphasized the last word, did he really hate other people so much? But he shrugged it off, like cliché stereotypes in books, that Harry most certainly did not read in his spare time while he was alive, Severus was probably all mushy on the inside while he projected the tough exterior to hide his extra-sensitive heart that will be melted when his should mate will come along, most likely an amazing young girl...well now he just sounds like a pedophile. Never mind.

Harry grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, it's hard to say no when they look at me like that. Yah know?" he made as if to elbow the Slytherin cheerily in the side, but Severus both dodged it, and it would have just passed through him. Harry lamented the loss of touch for a couple of seconds before he remembered something, his 'Awesome Ghost Skills'! With that in mind, the ex-Gryffindor focused on his elbow and jabbed Severus again when he was looking away, glaring at a portrait of a woman picking flowers.

The Slytherin stumbled the side at the impact and Harry grinned, it worked! It hadn't just been some one time fluke when he most needed it. Awesome. "Oops, my bad." he apologized as Severus recovered his balance and turned to glare daggers at Harry.

"Would you desist?" he hissed angrily. Harry bowed his head and peered through his black fringe apologetically.

"Sorry." he said, trying for 'Angelic' with a hint of 'Accidentally-On-Purpose'. The Slytherin was nor impressed.

"Do you _want_ to be late for Potions?" he growled.

"Actually, you're the one who'd be late." Harry retorted with a cheeky smile. "I'm just along for the ride." An eyebrow was arched elegantly and all of a sudden Severus was looking over Harry's shoulder.

"Oh look, you're parents." he pointed lazily. The ghost spun around in a panic, crap! He needed somewhere to hide and-wait. There was no one behind him but a Ravenclaw that shot him a questioning look he ignored and a Hufflepuff that quickly scurried away.

Harry turned back to Severus, confused. "But there's no one the-ooh, you sneaky bastard!" he laughed as realization dawned on him. Severus looked faintly disturbed, whether it was from the easy laugh Harry had gotten out of his trick, which had probably been meant to make him angry, or the almost affectionate way Harry used the insult.

Whichever it was, the Slytherin didn't comment on it. "Potions. Now." he said instead of anything Harry might have been hoping for, and without waiting for the ghost, Severus turned sharply and quickly walked down the passageway to the dungeons.

"Ack! Wait up, Severus!" Harry floated just as quickly after him.

* * *

"Thirty seconds late, Mister Snape, sit in the back and make no further disturbances to the class." Severus inwardly groaned as he slunk to the indicated seat, feeling Potter's mocking gaze on him he glared back and sat down next to a fellow Slytherin whose name he didn't bother remember.

Harry floated unsure beside him until Severus snapped at him to sit down, so he crossed his legs while still in the air and drifted down a bit, sticking out his tongue when the Slytherin glared at him.

"Today, class, we are going to be working on the still being-developed 'Polyjuice' potion." Professor Marshall began, Severus inwardly smirked. Hah, still being developed? He'd perfected it just last week, stupid amateurs. "Now then, who can tell me what polyjuice potion does?"

Severus' hand didn't shoot into the air as you'd expect, his hand didn't even twitch. He felt Harry's confused gaze on him as he waited for a Gryffindor to brazenly step up to the stand.

"Mr. Tours?" as expected, a completely idiotic one from the lot did as Severus was waiting for, probably thinking that no one knew what the potion did, not even one of the Slytherins. Poor kid, he was an idiot.

It was rather funny, actually, to see as his fellow Gryffindorks tried to whisper him completely incorrect answers as he fumbled for it himself. They all knew he didn't have the answer, it was almost pitiful the way he persisted in proving himself such a dunderhead to the rest of the class.

"Er-I…something about many, sir?" Tours said in the end. Severus raised an eyebrow, well…at least he knew his roots. But really, couldn't he make connections?

"5 points from Gryffindor for mistaking my class for a Grammar course, does anyone here know what polyjuice is? 20 points extra for answering." Professor Marshall sighed and Severus crowed triumphantly in his head, this was what he'd been waiting for, and his hand slowly rose into the air. "Ah, Mr. Snape! You have the correct answer, I presume?"

Severus nodded and with a smirk on his face he answered slowly, so that the dimmer ones in the class could still follow. "Polyjuice potion is a complex potion that takes around 3 months to complete in its current stage of development, its intended purpose when ready is as a camouflage agent. A highly advanced camouflage agent, in which you are not only wearing a disguise, you _are_ your disguise. However, it has to be a person already existing, it cannot be from your imagination."He sat back, pleased with himself, and shot a smug look over at Harry.

"Please, in my time you already know all this, and more," the ghost flapped a hand dismissively, leaning back casually, "And anyways, I made the Polyjuice potion in my second year." Severus' smug expression was replaced by a hot glare and he turned back to the teacher, who'd ignored their exchanging of words.

"Ingredients on the board as well as in your books, the actual process can be found on page 97. Get to work!" Professor Marshall barked.

"You had better at least act like you're my partner today, Snape." The Slytherin beside him muttered as she stood up and went to gather the ingredients needed. Severus leaned back in his chair, aware of Harry's incredulous look as he made himself comfortable.

"Shouldn't you help her?" the ghost asked, floating closer to the table. "Like start the fire or something? Aren't you supposed to be all passionate about potion making?"

Severus arched an eyebrow as he looked over. "I don't think I can answer that last one, ghost-boy," he replied loftily. "I don't know what exactly I'm like in the 'future', and quite frankly: Potions are very enjoyable. It's the class I find tedious and a waste of my time, I already know this crap."

Why was the ghost so disheartened to hear that? Severus snorted. "You have to actually be with me during class, you know, I can tell your father is just itching to stomp over and demand his rights to your presence. Don't want to leave him wanting, do we?" had Harry blood to flood his cheeks and stain them red, such a case would have probably happened.

"Fine, maybe I will." The ghost growled as his face stayed pale as the moment he'd died. "I'm sure he'd appreciate my company more, anyways." The Slytherin just turned to his cauldron, his partner was coming back and Professor Marshall, for all her favoring of Slytherins, did judge the students fairly on participation.

He started the fire just as the girl set the required ingredients for the first stage of the potion on the table where they could both access them easily.

"Ghost-boy left." Severus' partner commented as she started throwing the lacewing fly wings into the cauldron. Severus shrugged and sat back, content to let her do the menial work.

"Why do you care?" he snorted, watching from the corner of his eye as Harry rather timidly approached the foursome that was the 'Marauders', he'd heard them refer to themselves by that name once during a midnight patrol. He'd have to mock the ghost later, Severus noted silently, for being such a nervous Hufflepuff about saying 'Hi'.

"You and him seemed pretty close, is all," his partner, who he still couldn't remember the name of, grumbled, clapping her hands to get wing remnants off as she finished up. "It could call to question your, ehem, loyalty, in being friends with an ex-Gryffindor, you know." Severus ignored the threat, glaring the girl into submission.

"The day I care what my house thinks about my social life is the day I remember your name, useless speck of dust." He growled. The girl just smirked back and began writing in her journal.

"I wonder what Malfoy will think of this sudden alliance when he gets back."

Severus immediately bristled. "Don't bring him into this." He snapped and pulled out his own journal as well as a well used quill and his ink pot.

His partner hummed a mocking sing-song tune and gave no reply. Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose, sometimes he felt like punching a wall.

* * *

"If you float one more inch toward Mr. Potter and his friends, I will banish you from my classroom and you will not be allowed back in." Harry 'eeped' and shrunk back under the stern, merciless gaze of Severus' Potion's Professor, he still didn't know her name.

"Sorry, M'am." he smiled in an attempt to lighten the mood, the woman glaring down her round spectacles at the front of the class was not impressed.

"There will be time for socializing after class, return to your keeper." she motioned to where Severus was sitting stiffly in his seat, watching the proceedings with a blank expression, and his female partner was tending to their potion, watching more discreetly from the corner of her eye. Harry moved to go where he was told then paused, did she just say that Severus was his...keeper? "_Move_, Harry Potter." another 'eep' and he hurried back to Severus.

"It's your fault you know." Harry muttered to the now smirking Severus, attempting to look over at the four he'd been going to before without drawing attention from the professor but failing as she shot him a warning look.

"I don't see how." the Slytherin leaned back casually, Harry resisted the urge to topple his chair. It was a difficult one to ignore.

"You told me to go over there," the ghost hissed, gesturing in the general direction of the Marauders. "It's your fault I got in trouble."

Severus arched an eyebrow and the female Slytherin covered a small cough beside them.

"Lover's spats should be restricted to the Dormitory." she told them both. Harry stared at her blankly, then realization dawned on him and she smirked, tapping her glass stirring rod against the cauldron rim before setting it on the table. "Yes, I'm calling you and Snape lovers. You argue like and old married couple, quite frankly, you should be embarrassed."

"Shut up." Severus grumbled, although Harry couldn't help but notice that there wasn't as much venom in his words as one might expect.

Harry blushed, or felt as though if he were living he would have blushed in this situation. "It's not a lover's spat." he argued, running a hand through his constantly mussed hair. "It's an argument between two mortal enemies."

"Or so you say we are in the future." Severus muttered beside him. Harry shot the Slytherin a look, he wasn't helping his case in the least. The girl didn't say anything more on the subject, she was into letting people simmer like the cauldron before them, and instead picked up the rod to give the potion one last stir.

"Right then, Snape, it's to sit for 21 days now." she said, picking up her journal and casting a quick tempus. Harry was disheartened to see that there was still an ample amount of time before he could actually get away from the 'Greasy Git' and properly introduce himself to his father, and perhaps even his mother. "I'd suggest you actually get some work done, Snape, Merlin knows you earned no participation points on this one."

Harry watched as Severus sneered at his fellow Slytherin, did snakes not get along as well as they always appeared to? Or was is just a special case, in which everyone hated Severus? Harry had to admit, he was betting on the latter, Lord knew he never did anything to put himself in the good graces of anyone he thought below himself. Or just anyone in general. The man, teen, was not a socialite.

"I'm merely allowing you the chance to learn, fellow student," Severus mocked, opening his own journal. Harry raised and eyebrow, yeah, it was the latter alright. "Seeing as how I already know the potion, I thought I would not hinder your chance to be mediocre at best." Harry sighed as a battle of glares broke out. It was going to be a _long_ 30 minutes.

* * *

M'kay, so I don't know if I've been clear about this, knowing me I probably haven't, but this story is meant to be a: SLASH, gay fic, sex between two individuals of the male species, yaoi, etc, etc. Shitty shitty bang bang. I'm pretty sure it won't ever become graphic to the point of actual sex, but there will be romance of the homosexual kind. Apologies to anyone that read this and thought: oh look, Harry goes back in time after he dies! I'm sure he and Severus will just be friends and Harry will actually end up dating some Mary Sue or hell, even Ginny!(somehow, who knows.) buuut yeah, sorry to those of you who thought something along those lines.

Just thought I should say something before I get flames saying I'm a horrible person and should have warned you all. Which...I _think_ I have...somewhere...meh.

On other news: This one is rather short, and late...sorry about that. I can only offer my apologies that I suck at updating and can't keep my motivation up for more than what I've written so far. (If you haven't already guessed: I don't know how the hell this story is necessarily going to turn out seeing as how I have a rather large aversion to writing a story line or even a vague outline.)

I can only hope that you enjoy what I've given you and that you will support me with kind-hearted reviews that feed my ego and encourage me to kill more trees in my quest for the holy grai-ehem, in my quest to bring you an semi-original plot. (Well that was eloquently put.)

I realize now that this chapter is not only short, but it also contains little humor. Sorry about that as well...what else should I apologize for? A helluva lot...a helluva lot. Bu-ut, I don't want to bore anyone, so I'll just leave you now with the realization that over here...it's Christmas morning.

Merry Christmas to all who celebrate the day that really isn't the day that Christ was born! Yay for religious sects that decided long ago to move Jesus' birth to coincide with pagan holidays! Woot! (There's something morally wrong in doing this when I'm writing something that the church is pretty against...heh, losers.)

~Witty


	6. resignation AN

Sorry to everyone who read and reviewed, but I won't be continuing this for now.

I'm officially abstaining from Fanfiction while I get my life under control, so you won't see anything from me for a long while.

Thanks so much for appreciating what I wrote and I hope that someday when I get writing again you all will still be around. Thanks again!

~Witty


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